urban bicycle journeys

I had enough points for an American Airlines ticket to Philadelphia but otherwise had no idea where to bicycle once I got there. Looking at a map of eastern central Pennsylvania, I noticed Nazareth PA. “The Weight” by The Band is a great song. Supposedly songwriter Robbie Robertson had an inspiration in about 1968 when looking at his Martin guitar and seeing the famous Martin logo inside the sound hole. It reminded him that Martin has been making guitars in Nazareth PA since 1833. His lyrics are poetic but inscrutable, beginning with the biblical sounding phrase “I rode into Nazareth.”

It seemed appropriate to bicycle the roughly eighty miles from Philadelphia to Nazareth PA.

I flew up from Raleigh/Durham to PHL (only 55 minutes!) with my usual Bike Friday packed in its Samsonite suitcase. Philadelphia has one of America’s better airport-to-city light rail systems. The trains pull right up to the terminal. In Philadelphia “downtown” is “Center City.”

I took SEPTA to 30th Street Station. Entering the city from there feels spiritual. Constructed in 1930 it is Art Deco on the inside and Greek Revival on the outside.

I chose a spot to extract the Bike Friday from its curved plastic suitcase.

Having set up luggage storage with an app called Bounce, I walked three blocks to a mini-mart where I left the empty plastic suitcase for a scheduled three days.

I then cycled off! Even though I was in central Philadelphia the Schuylkill River Trail passes directly across from the station, leading out of the city west towards Valley Forge.

On the bike path less than a mile from the station I cycled by several hundred year old “boathouses” used by local university and prep school crew (rowing) teams.

I continued on that Schuylkill trail and an adjoining one for over thirty miles. I had brought on the airplane from home leftover chicken and rice in a Tupperware container. I stopped for picnic lunch.

I also paused in Conshohoken at Perks Coffee for an oat milk latte, one pack sugar.

The trail passes alongside close-in cities like Norristown PA, with Philly style urban housing.

I cycled onward using these delightful off-road trails.

At four-thirty in the afternoon I stopped at Troubles End Brewery in Collegeville PA, ultimately chatting with the co-owners. We talked about Pennsylvania. Since we were out in the suburbs I was mildly surprised that one of them belittled my upcoming destination of Nazareth PA as part of Red Pennsylvania, what he called “Pennsyltucky.”

Over a German styled “festbier” I searched my phone for somewhere to stay that evening. The only practical choice was a chain hotel two miles away, Collegeville Residence Inn by Marriott.

In that same exurbia mold, the best restaurant I could find was in the newish shopping center Providence Town Center, opposite an Old Navy .

I treasure finding restaurants that are small, precious, and local. I suppose it’s counterintuitive that I found a really nice meal at the opposite, a regional suburban chain called Harvest Seasonal Grill, which advertises “farm to table.” Asian stir fried noodles with shrimp was perfectly seasoned and healthy feeling with lots of vegetables, and not all that expensive. Service at the bar was friendly and prompt on this Monday evening as I downed two glasses of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

Desserts were appropriately small and only five dollars.

I cycled in the dark back to the motel with major feel-good vibes.

The next day Nazareth PA was in reach, maybe fifty miles on. Nazareth looked to be a working class town with not many hotels and restaurants. I decided I would stay in busier looking Bethlehem PA, nine miles before Nazareth. Bethlehem to Nazareth; something out of Scripture.

I cycled on. Pennsylvania has spent serious state resources developing regional bike and hiking trails, many on former rail lines. About half of this day’s ride to Bethlehem was on such trails.

The other half of the day’s riding was on country roads, many with very little traffic. The weather was perfect.

Thirty or forty miles in, I had lunch in Quakertown PA, population 9,500. Sunday’s Deli and Restaurant was bustling at 1:00 PM on a weekday. Half of a ham and cheese sub was still cut into two halves and served by pleasant waitress on a real plate. No charge for water. $6.50 plus tax and tip was a very good deal.

There were pictures of movie stars on the wall, plus in the upper right, Princess Diana, who, I guess, was something of a show biz star in her own right.

Architecture in Pennsylvania seems unique. Small North Carolina towns surely do not have anything like these multi-family houses in Quakertown.

I usually point out Trump signs but I honestly saw very few on this trip. I did see signs of resistance.

Bethlehem Steel operated from 1852 to 1995, and the company liquidated in 2003. I bicycled across the Lehigh River and looked back at the enormous former Bethlehem Steel mill, much of it converted to a casino and an arts center. It seemed somehow creepy.

Once across the river, Bethlehem PA (population 76,000) has three universities including Lehigh U and seems to be doing fine economically.

I stayed at the 1920’s Hotel Bethlehem. At their small bar I met a couple of guys who, according to the bartender, were locals who drink there every night. Bethlehem PA shares culture with Tootie’s hometown of Winston-Salem NC because both cities were founded by Moravians in the 1700’s. The guy on the left is coincidentally from Winston-Salem and still travels back and forth. We found we had common acquaintances. He was enthusiastic about Moravian cultural triggers, such as the multiple Moravian stars visible in the background. Both guys worked at or were retired from Moravian University.

Dinner that evening, just down the street at Mama Nina, was disappointing eggplant parmesan. Mushy spaghetti.

I brimmed with excitement for the next morning’s visit to the Martin guitar factory in Nazareth nine miles away. I had intended to ride up and look at it from the parking lot, just to say I’d been there. I had checked online about factory tours and that day’s tour was sold out way in advance.

While Martin has been in Nazareth PA since 1833, its current factory is a modern building on the northern fringes of town, employing about six hundred and still run by the Martin family, building mostly high end acoustic guitars.

I discovered there was a gift shop and a guitar museum. It was all fascinating. I had had no intention of buying anything. I did not even know they sold retail here.

Back at home, I have two older Martin instruments. The first is a 1944 model 000-18 steel string acoustic guitar that I bought in 2014 at Lowe Vintage Instrument in Burlington NC. It is by far the best guitar I have ever owned; awesome, really loud and crisp but physically light. The neck is perfect.

The second is a Martin soprano ukulele my late mother bought new at the Bergstrom Music store in Honolulu in 1947 when she was twenty-two years old, during the one year she spent teaching school in Hawaii, living with a slightly older cousin who was married to a naval officer. Having just graduated from TCU she was apparently not inspired to move back to Lubbock. Although an accomplished pianist, organist, and cellist I never heard her play that ukulele. My father, on the other hand, could play one song, and only one song, on a that ukulele really well; Red Hot Henry Brown, an upbeat jazz novelty song from the 1920’s. At age ten in 1964, using a chord book, I learned to play my first song on the Martin, “All My Loving” after I saw the Beatles on TV. That ukulele in our 1960’s household lived a rough life; I remember using it to El Kabong my siblings. In the 1990’s I had cracks repaired by a professional.

I have often brought a cheap Chinese ukulele on these bicycle trips. My mother’s antique instrument is obviously too precious and fragile. Here in Nazareth at the Martin gift shop, was, on the right below, a brand new instrument essentially identical to Mom’s.

I could not help myself. I bought it. It was the lowest cost instrument sold there but it sounded great. It stays in tune. I could take it on these bike rides.

I hung around the shop a little longer, then strapped my new ukulele to the bicycle outside.

I cycled off into the reality of Pennsylvania.

Easton PA is nine miles southeast of Nazareth. This “hotel” in Easton is NOT somewhere I would stay and no longer has a coffee shop.

Downtown Easton PA is actually fine. I stopped for coffee around the corner at Terra Cafe for a very late breakfast; lunch, really. I looked at the instruction pamphlets to my new ukulele.

I had an airplane ticket back to North Carolina from the Philadelphia airport midday the following day, and at noon I was still in Easton PA, ninety miles away. I needed a plan. I would bicycle thirty miles from Easton down the Delaware Canal Trail, then turn ten miles inland by road to Doylestown. Doylestown is the end of the line of SEPTA commuter rail. If I could get to Doylestown I could take the train to central Philadelphia late that same afternoon.

The Delaware Canal Trail is peaceful and often seems like wilderness, even though it forms a portion of the New Jersey / Pennsylvania state line and is near several large cities.

Thirty miles later I turned right off into the hills that line the river. It was ten miles to the Doylestown train station. A bicyclist always seeks the most remote route. One tiny road was closed as it had been washed out. I managed to slip through. You never know until you look.

I had ridden a long way and needed a Gatorade. Surrounded by wealthy suburban neighborhoods downtown Doylestown was so cutesy that there were no food stores. I didn’t even see a gas station. I settled for a Starbucks a block or two from the train station.

I caught the 5:05 SEPTA train which would take a little over an hour to Jefferson Station in Center City. You can wheel a full size bicycle right onto the train.

On my phone I looked for somewhere to stay and chose the Arco Hotel Midtown Village because it had both a low price and good ratings. From Jefferson Station in Central City Philadelphia I bicycled a mile or two through the dense city. This part of town has nineteenth century or earlier row houses mixed with newer high rises.

Checking in was a pain because there was no front desk and you had to stand on the street while you navigated a complex phone app, which included taking a picture of your driver’s license to get an entry code. (I am glad it was not raining!) Once inside the room was fine.

I walked down the block for dinner at somewhere called Little Nonnas. Philadelphia has great restaurants. Pasta and clams.

My flight home was not until one something the next day so I had a couple of hours that morning to cycle around Philadelphia, going to where South Philly neighborhoods cease and the Eagles and Phillies stadiums begin. Philadelphia has distinctive residential architecture.

I love these trips but packing up the bicycle is a pain. I had to cycle to the mini-mart, retrieve my suitcase, then lug both to the station to disassemble the bicycle.

After getting everything put together I stood at 30th Street Station and waited for the train to the airport. Sure, I could have taken an Uber but riding mass transit is all part of the experience.

Airports generally have rip-off pricing for bad food. At PHL a genuine pizza place Tagliare’ offered a delicious slice of veggie pizza for seven dollars and change. Yes.

Once again the flight home to RDU took less than an hour.